


Happy Valentine's Day (Now Please Stop Crying)

by singing_to_shipwreck



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Lovesick, M/M, Nandor's POV, WWS21, just a little thing for valentine's day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singing_to_shipwreck/pseuds/singing_to_shipwreck
Summary: my entry for HeartlessMemo's Who We Smooch in the Shadows challenge, inspired by the prompts "lovesick" and "cuddling"
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless, Laszlo Cravensworth/Nadja
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	Happy Valentine's Day (Now Please Stop Crying)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so deep in WIP hell I wasn't going to write for this, but then I figured why not. This is a very silly and basic little thing, but it was fun to write Nandor's dumb POV. Please enjoy!

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my darling,” Laszlo gushes, handing Nadja an intricately wrapped red package. She lets out a little yelp of glee, and Nandor nearly presses his hands over his ears to tamper the sound. He watches with equal parts disgust and curiosity as Nadja opens her gift. 

“Oh, what a lovely little bird!” she exclaims, holding up the taxidermy cardinal for the entire room to see. Guillermo frowns at it, and Nandor thinks that Guillermo must feel very sorry for the little birdie. “Thank you, my love. Here is your gift,” she says, pulling out a flat rectangular parcel. 

Laszlo smirks. “Hmm, I wonder what this could be, my sweet.” 

“It is obviously a record, Laszlo,” Nandor intervenes, rolling his eyes. 

Nadja sends him a glare. Nandor huffs and looks away, instead focusing on Guillermo’s increasingly slumped form where he sits in the corner of the room. Guillermo is watching Nadja and Laszlo as they coo at each other, his already pathetic shoulders sinking down even further into despair. Nandor blinks at him. What could be the problem with the human? Nandor tries to think of a possibility or two, but his mind comes up blank. 

“You know,” Colin Robinson begins with a chuckle. “I’m surprised that you two even celebrate Valentine’s Day, since it’s based off of a Saint and all that.” Nadja hisses dramatically, and Laszlo shakes his head. “But did you know that the story of St. Valentine isn’t all that romantic? He was martyred on February 14th, because he kept letting all of the soldiers get married and Claudius - scary dudes, those Romans, much scarier than you, Nandor-”

“They are not.”

“Well, actually they are-”

“Well, actually they are not.” 

“Well, they are. But anyways, back to my point, St. Valentine had his head chopped clean off on February 14th, and now people celebrate love on that day with good old fashioned commercialism.” 

“Yes, this makes sense,” Nadja says with a shrug.

“Nothing quite like a little decapitation to get you in the mood,” Laszlo tacks on, wagging his eyebrows at his wife. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my darling.” 

“Oh, Laszlo,” Nadja murmurs in reply as Laszlo lifts her hand and begins to delicately kiss her fingers and wrists. 

Guillermo sighs audibly from the corner, and all four of the vampires in the room turn to stare at him. “I…” he begins. Nandor frowns at the sad, crestfallen look on his little face. “I’m just gonna go,” he chokes and flees from the room. Nandor watches him go with his eyebrows knit tightly in confusion. 

“Wow. Something’s not right with Guillermo, huh?” 

Nandor scoffs. “It must have been your fault, Colin Robinson. You drained him with all of your talking, and now he has to go to bed.” 

“No,” Nadja says matter-of-factly, still holding onto her little taxidermy bird in one of her palms. “I know what is wrong with Guillermo, and it is not because of Colin Robinson.”

They sit in silence for a moment. “Are you going to tell me what it is that is wrong with him?” Nandor demands. 

Nadja hums thoughtfully. “No, I think I will let you figure it out for yourself. I think that will be very amusing for me to watch.” 

“Oh, darling,” Laszlo pitches his voice low, as though he is speaking so quietly that Nandor cannot hear. Nandor thinks this is very stupid, and that’s truly saying something coming from him. “You know Gizmo’ll be dead before Nandor sorts it out on his own.”

Nandor barely restrains a hiss at the sound of the words “Gizmo” and “dead” being placed together like that. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about those words together makes him feel as though his stomach will fall right out of his ass onto the floor, which would be very inconvenient for him, he thinks. “Will you just tell me what it is already?” 

“Fine,” Nadja grumbles, rolling her eyes. “He is lovesick.” 

“ _Lovesick_?”

“Yes. I can smell it all over him. Lovesick.” 

Colin makes a noise from his seat; his eyes are flashing blue wildly. Nandor winces. At least he is not talking, although it is a bit rude to be feeding off of them like this. “I do not understand.”

“Humans need a certain amount of love. They are like little flowers needing sun and water, except the sun and water is…”

Laszlo chimes in. “Well, humans do need sun and water. I think.”

“Yes, but my point is that they also need _love,_ especially when there is love being celebrated around them. Or they get all shriveled and sad, and then they make a terrible meal.”

“Pretty tasty where I’m sitting,” Colin chimes.

“Okay,” Nandor says, pointedly ignoring Colin and bearing his teeth. If Guillermo needs love, what is the best way to deliver him love? “Should I arrange a date for him with another human then?” 

Nadja throws her head back and laughs openly at him. _Fucking Nadja._ “No, Nandor, do _not_ arrange a date for him with another human. I don’t think that is the love he is sick for.” 

“Well, then tell me what the love that he is sick for is so I can make him not sick anymore!” 

Laszlo joins in on Nadja’s laughter. “You’re right, my sweet syrup pie. It is funny to watch him try and figure it out for himself.” 

Nandor stands in a huff, pointing his fingers accusingly at Nadja and Laszlo. “Fine then! I don’t need your help! I bet he is not even lovesick! I think that you are like tugging on my arms and lovesickness is not even a thing!” He does his best to be menacing and imposing, but Nadja and Laszlo continue to laugh in his face and Colin Robinson’s eyes continue to flash blue.

Nandor stalks out of the room and out into the entryway. “Guillermo?” he calls out to the house. No one answers him. “ _Guillermo_!” he repeats, and this time he hears a faint sniveling noise from the closet that was once Guillermo’s bedroom under the stairs. He tiptoes to the closet, makes a fist, and pounds on the wall near the curtain. “Knock knock knock knocking--”

“Just come in,” Guillermo calls, and Nandor pulls back the curtain. Guillermo is sitting on the bare cot, his back resting against the wall, and there is so much sadness in his face that Nandor begins to suspect that Nadja wasn’t lying to him. Nandor sits beside him tentatively, the cot squeaking unflatteringly with the motion. 

“Why are you sulking in here instead of in the blue room? What was the point of moving all of your things to the blue room if you are just going to sulk in this closet?”

Guillermo just shrugs. He will not look at Nandor, and for some reason, this upsets him. “What is going on?” Guillermo replies in an incomprehensible mutter. Perhaps lovesickness prevents humans from being able to speak clearly. “Are you alright?” Guillermo sniffles and nods furiously, but his face pinches tightly and his chest heaves. Nandor has seen this look before, and he knows that it means Guillermo is about to cry.

“There, there,” he says with a grimace, patting Guillermo’s shoulder once, twice, three times before he lets his hand rest there. Guillermo’s body is warm under his palm. It is almost nice, like cozying up near the fire. 

Perhaps it would be alright to pull him closer, if it would get him to stop crying. Nandor does not like it when he cries, simply because it makes him very uncomfortable. Maybe Guillermo _is_ lovesick, a little cuddle will make him feel better, and then Nandor will not have to listen to him sniveling all over the place any longer. 

Nandor steels his nerves and then pulls the human close, wrapping his arms stiffly around Guillermo’s back. The warmth of Guillermo’s body spreads like fire from Nandor’s chest down to his toes. Slowly, Guillermo’s arms reach up to wrap around Nandor’s back as well, and Nandor shoves down the unfamiliar feeling blossoming in his chest as he relaxes into the embrace. It _is_ quite nice, he thinks, only because Guillermo is no longer sniffling and not because Guillermo is warm and soft and smells like vanilla and mothballs. 

Nandor is not sure how it happens, but suddenly he is easing them down into a lounging position on Guillermo’s little cot. He tells himself that this is a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing. Lying down on the twin mattress is a tight squeeze; their chests press tightly together, and their legs entangle. Nandor’s boot-cladded feet hang off the edge of the bed. 

Deep down, he knows that it is not right to be holding a human like this or enjoying it so much, but he cannot seem to care as Guillermo buries his head into his neck. His fingers clutch at Nandor’s shirt, and his glasses press into Nandor’s collar. Nandor lets out a low hum of contentment. 

“This is nice,” Guillermo whispers. 

“Shh, Guillermo,” Nandor berates, but his fingers betray him as they card delicately through Guillermo’s curly hair. It is surprisingly soft in his grasp. “Do not ruin it by talking. This is quiet holding time.” 

“Okay,” Guillermo murmurs. "Happy Valentine's Day." Guillermo is technically disobeying him by continuing to talk, but he decides to let it go just this once out of the kindness of his not-heart. He hums lowly in reply.

They lie together like that for a long time, until Nandor can hear Guillermo’s heartbeat slow down to a peaceful thud and his breaths even out. “There,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against Guillermo’s head. “I hope this has fixed your lovesickness, provided that it is a real thing.” 

“My _what?_ ” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! Happy Valentine's Day!


End file.
